Atlantica - 01.05.2007, Síða 15

14 a t l a n t i c a
Sara Blask: You hit a home run with “Inside Your
Head.” How did you hear from Mac that you were the
chosen one?
Eberg: Well, I was about four pints in at my friend’s
party and I got a call around midnight. They said they
wanted to use it but that they needed an edit now.
That sobered me up. So I told them, sure, I’d have to
get back to my “studio.” My studio being my flat with
my computer.
SB: It was probably 5 am in Iceland when the
Oscars were being streamed from Los Angeles. Did
you stay up to watch?
Eberg: I got this phone call in the middle of the
night from a friend in New York. She said she was
watching the Oscars and that they were playing my
bloody song! It was the best reason I’ve ever gotten
woken up.
SB: After reading some of the messages on your
MySpace profile, it seems like a lot of young girls have
fallen in love with you, perhaps because they also love
The OC. Do you reply to them?
Eberg: Usually I don’t unless I’m in the right mood.
But if you do it’s a bit dangerous. They become your
best friend and then they keep sending you mail,
which is lovely. But it’s also a bit weird.
SB: One of your tracks is called “Love Your Bum.” An
ode to the arse?
Eberg: Those lyrics come from too much time on
the toilet with nothing to read. I went to the grocery
store with a pen and piece of paper to write down the
advertising slogans from the toilet paper packaging. I
think ‘break the habit’ is one of them. Also ‘your house
is our house.’ I don’t really get any of them.
SB: I assume you like good quality toilet paper
then? None of that one-ply stuff.
Eberg: Yeah. I like Charmin Comfort.
SB: VoffVoff is the title of your latest album,
which you say is how Icelandic dogs bark. But there
don’t seem to be many dogs here! American dogs
pronounce it “woof woof,” by the way.
Eberg: There are dogs in the countryside – and
they wouldn’t understand any of this “woof woof”
business. When I’m in crowded areas, like on the tube
or in train stations, I sometimes start barking. Usually
what happens is that people think it’s so weird that
they get up from their seats and leave, which is great
because then I have a place to sit.
SB: Your birth name is Einar Tönsberg. I can see
where you get “Eberg” from, but do your friends call
you Einar or Eberg?
Eberg: My friends in the UK call me Eberg. For
some reason they don’t hear the ‘r’ in my name, they
hear it as an ‘l.’ Einal [anal]. I gave up on that a long
time ago.
SB: What’s playing on your iPod these days?
Eberg: Nothing. I don’t have an iPod. I depend
upon my flatmates for music. I like Elliott Smith
though, but I also just like conversation, people
talking. That’s a kind of music. I’m also addicted to
BBC4.
SB: Is Eberg just you? Do you ever play with
anyone else?
Eberg: Eberg is just me, but when I play live
there’s usually a drummer, a cellist, and a very nervous
computer.
SB: Nervous computer?
Eberg: Well, it gets a bit scared when we’re
playing live and it makes some stupid mistakes like
stops playing in the middle of a track or just turns
itself off. I think it might be a bit ill. I think it might
be secretly watching porn or something. It’s getting
some diseases I think.
SB: You sometimes play with unusual instruments
like scissors and something you dubbed the ‘eharp’
that’s made from guitar strings and a wooden coat
hanger. How’d you get inspired?
Eberg: I’m not really sure how that happened.
After my first album I was terrified of playing live and
I think this was my defense, to make something silly
to hide behind. Somehow I got this wooden hanger
thing, but then I had to go on a quest to find the
right kind of wooden hanger. They don’t make them
like they used to. So I went to this old man’s clothing
shop where all the hangers are like 100 years old and
those are the ones I used. It’s a great instrument. Also,
I’m the best eharp player in the world. I hate being
average.
SB: So many people drool over Iceland’s music
scene these days. I’m not sure I buy it, do you?
Eberg: I think the arrogance is getting dangerous
here. People are getting ahead of themselves a lot.
People are losing humility. What happens here is you
go to a radio station and most likely you know one
of the deejays. They’ll play the track for you and if
they like it, they’ll play it again and again. That’s kind
of how it works here. I think the beauty of Icelandic
music used to be, or maybe still is, that there’s no
history of people making money out of music. So if
you’re making music you have to be doing it because
you love doing it. You have to be proud of it. And
maybe that’s disappearing.
SB: You lived in London for a decade and decided
to move back to the Republic last summer. How
come?
Eberg: I felt like ten years was a long time. It was
either stay and have a future there or come back and
have a future here. It’s what happens when you go
abroad – it’s a bit like you’re on a holiday and you don’t
make any normal decisions, like buying a flat. London’s
great for being young and careless, but this is great for
a family. I’m starting to build a little summerhouse in
Hvalfjördur. The problem is that there aren’t that many
screws holding it together now. a
Eberg’s indie hit “Inside Your Head” recently electrified international airwaves as the track behind Mac’s new iPhone commercial that debuted during the
Oscars. The same track was also featured on the American hit TV show The OC. As it turns out, Eberg’s just a humble, mellifluous guy with affinities for
BBC4, good toilet paper, and occasionally barking like a dog.
eHarmony
BY Sara BlaSk